Heal My Wounds
by Saphira112
Summary: Tsuzuki Asato is a healer and sorcerer living on the outskirts of a forest by a village in a feudal era. While in the forest, he comes across a young boy who is covered in blood, unconscious… and cursed. Tsuzuki/Hisoka
1. Finding, Yet Not Searching

Recommended listening: _Sleeping Sun _by **Nightwish**

Heal My Wounds

Chapter One- Finding, Yet Not Searching 

It was a day like any other in this feudal era of Japan. The period and time of war had come and gone, leaving behind a scent of blood that everyone knew would take years to wash away. The small village near the least known river in Japan was very populated, extraordinary for the time of year. The rainfall was normal, with a few inches every month, not enough to flood the river, and sunny days gleaming on the leaves of trees, the plants glowing deep green in the small breeze.

Tsuzuki Asato lived outside of the forest secluding the village. It was said that he had been banished for an unknown cause right before the war had died away. His amethyst eyes were said to be inhuman, even if his sister proved him wrong, and his chocolate hair matched the kind of color you would see on the icing on cakes. His sister, Ruka, had died not long ago, killed by mysterious strangers no one had ever seen, strangers cloaked in black and white, their eyes matching their hate of their steel swords and their mouths lusting for other people's blood.

Tsuzuki was skilled in healing and magic, powers he could use to manipulate his spiritual energy. It was said to be a demon art, yet the books he read and researched upon said it was simply a gift from the gods above. Tsuzuki could do almost anything: barriers, fireballs, paranormal activities and on top of that, his healer nature was more impressive than any person of his time. He could remove most curses and hexes, as well as seal wounds within seconds and erase physical scars that lingered so.

Today he was in the forest, bright and early in the morning. In fact, it was just a bit past dawn, the sun not fully raised, with many light grey clouds. He liked to watch the sunrise every morning, watch how its golden rays played across the green leaves of the sacred trees he loved to touch and climb about, the trees that provided shelter for him in exchange for his kindness to nature itself. For some reason though, today he felt as though something was off.

He found himself wandering in the forest, nodding to the kodamas (1) lingering inside their mother trees, bowing slightly to show his utmost respect for the living things around them. His feet lightly touched the broken tree branches below his feet, his respect for nature allowing him to float across the leaf-littered floor, breaking not one nature-bound life form. It was the middle of the forest he loved the best about the actual forest itself. It was more solitary than any other place he knew and he felt like he could really be with himself and not worry about anything happening around him. But something wasn't right about the path he took today.

Sure, it was the same hidden trail of leaves that he took every day that ran near the river, but it carried an eerie aura around it. He couldn't really explain it. The aura was somewhat dark, but not an evil sort of dark as one would think. This dark aura seemed… pained and hurt, like something was slowly destroying it. Tsuzuki got this same feeling when he felt wood men cutting down the forest for parchment, even though it was easily found in the next village over. But wood men were heartless. They thought that cutting down nature would be the only way it fulfill their needs, which caused great deal of pain about the kodamas, who could only stand by and watch as their mother trees fell gracefully, but painfully. It was saddening, really, because the dear kodamas would follow suit with no control over their sudden fate.

Tsuzuki inclined his head, ducking below a low branch with luscious green leaves that were fine and healthy, but the tree had a yellow ribbon around it. That meant it was signaled for cutting. Tsuzuki's eyes gazed at the yellow ribbon before waving his hand; the ribbon vanishing without a trace. A single kodama came out, nodding its small head at him in great thanks. A smile graced the healer's lips and he nodded back before continuing down the path, his mind now focused on finding out where the odd aura was coming from.

His eyes traveled upwards to look at the sky to sense how much time he had. Threatening grey clouds were beginning to overcast the sky. He had less than an hour, by the looks of it. Already, he could hear faint thunder and a flash above him signaled a terrible storm. Normally, he would turn back and head back to his house, but for some reason, he could hear a faint call from further inside the forest. Not the kind of call one would hear for help out loud, but more of an emotional cry with no words that clutched at Tsuzuki's heart, pleading with its last breath for any help he would give.

Tsuzuki glanced back to the path ahead of him, eyes flickering to the left at a slight movement, seeing the kodama from a few minutes earlier escape within its home. This storm was very bad; if small enough, a figure could sense its rage from the forest floor. Tsuzuki continued to walk the path, eyes glancing up every now and then, as the cry he could hear within his mind grew louder with each step he took. He brushed a tree branch out of his way and came to a sudden stop, staring in shock at the forest floor.

Lying in a bed of nature-granted luscious green leaves lay a boy, no more than a teenager, stripped of his clothing and covered almost head to toe in blood, more than likely his own. His hair, matted on his head, was a fine ashen blond color, and his skin was deathly pale. A small flicker of an aura was surrounding him, easily the only thing keeping him alive, and it burnt an innocent, pained emerald color.

Tsuzuki ran over to the unconscious form and raised him up, causing the boy to groan in his sleep and his head to fall back, weakened and frail. Half-dried blood began to coat his fingers as he held onto the boy's limp form, trying to find out where he came from. Tsuzuki heard a clicking sound and turned his head sharply to the source. It was another kodama. It clicked its head again in its language, one only few could understand. Tsuzuki was one of the few.

This boy was a runaway. He had been running away from his home, already covered in blood, having only arrived not long ago before Tsuzuki, as the teen had snuck out in the middle of the night. The kodama also explained that the boy was drained, almost out of life energy… and one more thing:

He was cursed.

Tsuzuki looked down at the boy, tracing his fingers across that chest, clearing away some of the not-yet-dried blood. A glowing red symbol shone underneath and already, Tsuzuki recognized the pattern. It was an endless red curse, only given by a cruel act of greed and lust, and only placed on innocent people who didn't deserve it.

Cradling the boy in his arms, Tsuzuki picked up the unconscious teen from the forest floor and nodded his thanks to the kodama for informing him of what was going on. The kodama clicked its head as they always did as a response, but this click was quiet compared to the roaring thunder overhead. Tsuzuki looked up just as a fat raindrop landed on his nose. The storm had come sooner than he thought.

Giving a swift nod to the kodama, Tsuzuki began to run back to his house on the outskirts of the forest with speed no human could match. He ran silently and faster than the eye could blink and soon, he was at his house again, right at the front door. He used his magic to teleport inside, something he realized he should have done instead of running back to his house.

He gently laid the suddenly shaking boy on his bed and took a small cloth, dipping it into a bowl of ice-cold water. He rung out the cloth and placed it on the boy's hot forehead, moving his ashen bangs in the process. The boy's hair was soft, like clean fur, and Tsuzuki was tempted to touch it again. However, he refrained from doing so and set to the task of cleaning away the blood on the boy's body.

What was going on? Moreover, what of the curse? What should he do? He could not let the boy suffer with such a dangerous marking on his body, yet at the same time, he knew no magic that could reverse it. Perhaps it was time he took out his old spell book, handed down from generation to generation in the Tsuzuki family.

Thanking a silent god whom Tsuzuki did not believe in, Tsuzuki pulled a thick book from the shelf and sat down next to the bed, flipping through the pages until he came to a section about curses such as this. The book also had detail and strong explanations with both text and pictures.

Tsuzuki stopped at a page where there was a picture of a young male, probably in his teens with a red pattern marred everywhere on his body from the chest down, a red pattern with no beginning or end, a pattern that seemed to glow on the pages as it did on the boy in bed next to Tsuzuki. Next to that picture was another picture showing a red dagger connected to silver handle where there was a single ruby encrusted within it. The description underneath the pictures was long, but tiny, so Tsuzuki reached over and took his glasses from the nearby table, murmuring the text aloud:

_"The Red Moon Curse has been one of the most deadly curses ever forged and performed in magical history. It is a curse that is only put forth by fault and hidden raging lust from he who performs it. It is normally done with a blood red dagger in which it owner of the knife carves the pattern into the victim's body in an unrecognizable design, even by magical standards. The red dagger steals away the victim's blood as it draws the curse. This spell is normally performed with the involvement of sakura petals, in which signify death. The curse is also usually forged onto teens or young adults. The curse carries out the victim's death for at least three and a half years, which during that time, the victim will suffer from constant pain and frequent burning sensations. The Red Moon Curse also can be more deadly to ones who carry special abilities, such as knowing magic themselves, sensitivity, telepathy, or, the most dangerous, empathy. Having such an ability increases the amount of pain before, during, and after the curse has been done." _

Tsuzuki's knuckles were white from gripping the book so tightly. He looked away from the book and onto the unconscious teen on his bed. A boy that young had gone through something unimaginably horrible, nothing anyone else could bear to witness. Who would have such disgusting feelings as to torture this boy so much? Tsuzuki looked back at the page, hoping against hope there was a reversal spell.

There was. However, it would be complicated. Moreover, if the boy were to awaken and fight him off, the curse or most likely the reversal spell, would probably kill him. On top of that, Tsuzuki did not know if the boy had any ability or not, in which would sense his advance to help. Tsuzuki placed the book open on the table and went to get his magic supplies.

This was going to be a long ten hours.

* * *

(1) A kodama is a tree spirit I saw in the movie Princess Mononoke. I thought they were interesting, so I decided to add them into this story.

**A/N:** Fanfiction finally let me post something! Sheesh took it long enough. So… chapter one is up. That excerpt from the book is also by me, so Yay me for analyzing poor Hisoka's curse. And Tsuzuki's going to figure out Hisoka's ability soon, which will complicate things. And yes, the reversing spell for the curse DOES take ten hours. Man, I hope Tsuzuki has the patience for it. Anyway, feedback is appreciated. Arigato and ja ne for now!

Saphira Nakare Ruakara


	2. Comforting, Yet Not Touching

**A/N:** Err... yeah, I found this under my AP Euro papers and decided to type it up. I am SOOOO sorry for its lateness! TT I hope people still read this... probably not...

S.N.R.

**Recommended listening:** _Walking the Air_ by George Winston

Heal My Wounds

Chapter Two- Comforting, Yet Not Touching

The intricate red flames marring his body burned as Hellfire would, a deep raging heat that reminded him of the endless suffrage of living, knowing that its path was to kill him after draining every last drop of his spiritual power that alone threatened to be his end. These were the same powers that gave his parents the compulsion to be so cruel as to sell him to a man dressed in white, looking as an angel would. Yet, he was hardly an angelic being that had simply dropped down from the heavens.

He was the devil himself, if not a demon already. He lusted after the small child in ways the boy himself didn't even know about or want to imagine. It was he, the man, who cursed him that way, needing a youngling's spiritual power to allow his own will to run strong, his will to kill so many others less fortunate than the boy's alone. But the boy knew his end was soon to come. This burning upon his skin was the signal to him that the day of death would come very soon, perhaps not soon enough.

But now, as the boy lay in the darkness, feeling the curse work its way into his blood, he felt, even if for just a moment, a soft touch, a cool feeling against the power of the fire, a feeling that counteracted the curse, a feeling he had never before felt for as many days as he had been alive. A throbbing headache soon began to settle in and a groan passed those dusty, tainted lips without fail. Despite the headache, despite the burning, the boy longed for the cool touch that was sweeping over various parts of his body, shoulders down, flitting over the milky white skin…

Green eyes snapped open and the small body sat up as fast as the strained muscles would allow and a gasp of surprise was heard from a little far off, but the headache pounded blood into the boy's ears, thumping louder and louder. He tried to bring his heavy arms up to hold his aching head, but he found that his limbs were frozen in place, unmoving. Panic beginning to take over a mind. Thinking this was some other form of punishment to endure, that _they_ had found him and taken him back to that Hell, he opened his mouth to let out a scream, yet none escaped, not even a squeak.

The youth whipped his head around as he felt hands place themselves on his shoulders, trying to ease him back down. Finally finding strength within and a voice he knew had long since been filled with pain, he began to struggle against this stranger, shields being brought up to wave off the foreign emotions, a voice crying out against the hold desperately in a damaged, broken tone. "Hanase! Hanase!"

"Whoa, calm down!" the stranger said, their voice much different from the lust-filled voice that the youth normally had to wake up to. Blinking and his struggles dying down a little, the boy looked up to meet tired, lively purple eyes, a shade unmatchable in neither human nor demon. Chocolate bangs fanned in and out of the vision line of those eyes, those eyes that held such odd emotions that the boy began to act up his struggles again.

"If you don't stop struggling, then you'll die!" the stranger shouted, pushing the boy back down on his back onto the unfamiliar bed. The boy blinked up through sandy ashen bangs that fell gracefully over his green eyes, which began to fill up with surprise. In less than a second, he felt his power act up and he blasted the man away from him as was part of his defensive tact, a tact that helped him a great deal when it came to people forcing themselves upon him.

The unfamiliar person groaned and got up the floor before trying to make his way back, holding his burned hand that was now covered in blood. The boy glared at him, straining to edge away from this man. He gaped in shock as he watched the burn marks ebb away and the drops of blood vanish as the wound immediately healed. Glancing back up to those eyes, the boy took a quick look around and gasped.

All around, him candles were lit, giving off a faint incense he did not recognize. An open book lay near the bed, which was glowing slightly. Looking down at his arms and legs, he found that he was in the same situation as he had been when he had run away (not counting the location change), the red marks marring his skin and the burning become more intense now because he was awake.

He felt his back strike the bed again as he was laid back down, no more will within him or strength he could find to stop this person from doing so. Surprisingly, it was all he did. So far, anyway. The boy looked at him through hopeless, half-lidded eyes as the individual turned, flipping through the book for a minute or two. What in the world was this stranger doing? Why didn't he just hurt him or kill him and get it over with? The youth watched as he saw herbs being mixed into a small clay bowl and crushed with some red powder and water. What _was_ this man doing?

"What are you going to do with me?" he asked quietly, finally finding his voice again amidst the tension in the air that had before kept him from speaking. The man gave him a look, an odd look, as if he were wondering why such a question.

Turning back to what he was doing, the stranger changed the subject and asked, "What is your name?"

The boy bit his lip, trying to decide whether to answer or not. Whoever this was could know where he was from and immediately take him back there, back to the place he had tried so hard and had planned for years to get away from. His mind thought otherwise and answered for him. "Hisoka."

"Well, Hisoka, I'm not going to do anything with you," the man replied. "Intimately, at the very least. I know you don't want that after what you've been through. Besides, I have no reason to hurt you."

"Who are you?" Hisoka asked angrily. "You speak as if you've known me for years, but I know you just found me somewhere! Who are you?"

"Tsuzuki Asato," he replied somewhat dully. "The sorcerer."

"Sorcerer?" Hisoka repeated, raising a fine eyebrow. This was a first. The only sorcerers he knew of were back from whence he had come, and their spells and magic was dark and nothing like this. This man wasn't touching him at all and he used herbs, not emotions. At least, he did so far. "Does this mean you're like every other magician?"

"Magician?" Tsuzuki looked at him with a surprised look before shaking his head, turning back to his work with a small snort. "No, no, no, not a magician, I assure you. I can do spells, certainly, but I prefer to aim towards helping people with my magic and talents, not the other way around."

"If that's true, then what are you going to do with me exactly?" Hisoka asked angrily, sitting up again as his defensive powers already beginning to act up again, despite the fact that the man wasn't near him enough to touch him.

Tsuzuki sighed and his hands stopped their work with crushing herbs, instead adding the wiccan powder Hisoka had only seen in a widow's home when he was younger, much younger, before he was found out to be "demonic" and sold to the man in white. The purple eyes looked up to meet his and for a moment, the man's shields dropped. Hisoka's breath hitched as he felt the emotions radiating off in stronger waves, all the concern, the worry, the care, the sadness, the sorrow…His hands instinctively came up to clutch his head in a futile attempt to block out all the emotions he could feel. Why was this stranger feeling so much for him? Why?! All in a second, the shields were back up and Hisoka remembered how to breathe.

"Daijoubu ka?" he heard the man ask quietly. Hisoka's eyes focused and glared at the speaking person, as if to silently say _"Does it _look_ like I'm ok?"_

Tsuzuki stepped back. _'I knew it,'_ he thought, feeling slightly guilty. He turned back to the red herbs he had been crushing. "You're an empath," he said, more as statement than a question as he added a spice to the herbs and a small amount of water. The ingredients were slowly turning into a paste, much to Tsuzuki's relief.

Hisoka gave the purple-eyed man a look. So he knew. Now what? Would he shove him away and call him a demon? Accuse him of being a monster and murder him now? Force him to succumb to torture? All were possible and things Hisoka knew too well. The teen's look faltered and he looked away. "And...?"

Tsuzuki tore his eyes from his book to the blonde. "And what?"

"What're you going to do to me?" Hisoka asked for the second time, forcing all emotion out of his voice, as if what he said was an automatic response.

Tsuzuki gave him a weird look. "Help you, of course."

That got the emotions back into the boy's voice, surprisingly. "W-what?"

Tsuzuki tilted his head slightly. Had the boy never gotten help in his life before? "I'm going to help you," he repeated while turning back to the crushed herbs and powder. "I know how you've been cursed and I want to help rid you of it."

Amethyst eyes glanced up to meet the shocked emerald and it felt as if, for a moment, time stopped for them both as both minds processed unspoken questions and thoughts. It was as though there was a small connection between them, despite having just met, and each small word had triggered something inside of the teenager. No one had _ever_ come to help him. Did this man expect something from him?

"What do you want?"

Tsuzuki blinked as the question floated around the room on broken wings, waiting to be caught. Tsuzuki caught it with his eyes and he blinked again to make it vanish. The tone the boy had used when speaking those words was a tone of defeat, of fear... And Tsuzuki decided it was best to reply with truth. Tersely.

"Absolutely nothing."

Was it possible for eyes to get any wider than they already had been? As Tsuzuki watched Hisoka, it was apparently proven true. He had never seen such shock and disbelief run through a person's eyes – much less a young teenager's eyes – and it surprised him a little. Tsuzuki set down the bowl and walked over. Hisoka leaned back away from him for a moment as he stopped at the edge of the bed and sat down.

"What are you so afraid of?" the sorcerer asked.

Hisoka glared at him. "Baka, I'm not afraid..."

"Your eyes tell me another story."

The glare was replaced by that same shock. Tsuzuki looked straight into the bottomless green eyes before he spoke again. "They tell me you're afraid; you're scared by every move I make. Do I truly frighten you, Hisoka?"

Hisoka stuttered, shock in his eyes, his body almost shifting into a defensive position. "N-no, it's not you..."

Tsuzuki mused on the choice of words before he sighed and stood. "I'm almost done. Then I'll need to ask your cooperation, Hisoka."

"Cooperation for what?" The teen's tone was even again.

"Cooperation to touch you."

* * *

The horse atop the cliff let out a shrill neigh as a cold, cruel hand tugged its reins sharply and unexpectedly. Eyes as cold as frost-bitten grass seen every morning in past spring gazed over the fading horizon before darting up to the Eastern Border, where the moon, full as ever, began to rise.

'_He won't escape me forever...' _Then a smirk. _'My beautiful little doll.'_ And with that thought, Muraki tugged the reins and turned his horse, galloping back to the main road.

He was the man in white who had no true name.


End file.
